Swan Song
by Zetaseal
Summary: [PxE] Maya has a question she needs answered, and she has ways of getting what she needs.
1. Chapter 1

Warning: An adequate spoiler for PW2 - not quite huge but not quite small. And an inconsequential spoiler for PW3 as well, and you'd probably miss it if I didn't give you this hint: it'll sound like I'm making it up, but it's completely true. ;; To answer the question you may be asking - I have the Japanese GBA version, nyaha.

The 'jewel' spoken about in this fic is Maya's Magadama (I don't know what it'll be translated to) that shows the holder a physical representation of a secret a suspect is hiding, in the form of locks that have to be broken with evidence.

---

Maya knew she wasn't brilliant, especially compared to her sister or even Nick. It wasn't that she couldn't tell that something was bothering her friend/brother/boss; that much was obvious enough for her. It was just that she had no idea what to do about it.

Since they spoke to Detective Gumshoe at the circus, he had decided on being quiet and distant. It wasn't just the case that was bothering him - as far as their cases tended to go, it was becoming a fairly simple investigation. He believed his client - believed _in_ his client. No, it wasn't the case. She crossed her arms, pretending to look interested in his conversation with the beast tamer while remembering the slightly pained face he made as he gave her a quiet request: "Please, don't ever mention that name again."

Gumshoe had jumped in and changed the subject abruptly, much to their relief, but it made Maya think. He had said that last time, too, when she brought up the topic of Miles Edgeworth.

The most she had been able to get out of anybody was that Edgeworth was dead, and had died a year ago - soon after Maya had left for her home village. Besides that, the only thing she knew was that whenever she brought it up it made Nick sad, which was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to know _why_ it upset him so - weren't they rivals? - but something in his voice made her stop. Instead, she planned to tell him why herself.

After working on five cases with him, she knew what to do with evidence and how to use it to make people talk. All she had to do was steal the gem she had given him - and turnabout is fair play, right? With it she could see the locks that protected his secret, and see them break as she unlocked them one by one, but she was on her own otherwise.

"Maya? Come on, let's go talk to that acrobat again..." She started out of her thoughts at Nick's voice and scurried to follow him back into the snow, starting to plan what she would say later on. First of all, she would have to steal the jewel...

-----

"I know what happened now," Nick was saying to himself as he looked through the evidence. "The pepper..."

Maya hadn't been paying attention for most of the afternoon and thus had no idea what pepper had to do with the murder of the circus's ringleader - maybe he sneezed to death? - but it didn't matter. She was waiting for him to notice something was missing, being too nervous to bring it up herself. "Right, of course, the pepper!"

Finally he looked up at her with a slight grin on his face. "You have no idea what I'm talking about."

"Not at all!" she said proudly.

"Well, you'll find out tomorrow." His face fell as he thought about the trial, probably thinking the same thing she was - Francziska von Karma. He rubbed his arm in memory of a particularly nasty cut he had received from her whip that nobody ever actually questioned the presence of. Was that sort of abuse even allowed in a court of law?

She couldn't help the smile that started to creep through her lips as she watched him put away the papers and reach for his jacket and notice something off about the weight. He did a double-take, his confusion leading to that stab of realization that something important was missing.

"Oh, no... Looks like I'll have to go back to the circus... I think I forgot something."

"You mean... this?"

He looked at her, his relief at seeing the jewel quickly turning into suspicion. "Why do you have that?" he asked slowly.

"I wanted to ask you something," she said, pretending (and failing) to seem innocent. She almost considered backing out as she watched his expression darken with realization.

"This is about - about Edgeworth, isn't it."

"Yeah. It's just -"

"I told you all I know about what happened to him," he cut in quickly, turning away. "If you really want to know more, try Gumshoe."

"That's not what I wanted to know." She looked over at him and waited until he met her eyes. He wasn't lying about that part - there were no Psyche Locks surrounding him. "I want you to tell me... why the fact that he's gone makes you so upset."

Nick merely stared at her in surprise. After a pause, he said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

She squeaked slightly at the appearance of the locks - the area around Nick seemed discolored as intangible chains wove around him, connected by four locks. Now she knew why he looked so odd at suspects when Psyche Locks appeared - it wasn't exactly a normal sight. She almost couldn't believe that he couldn't see them without the jewel.

"Liar!" she couldn't help but exclaim, but then faltered. "Um..." How did he start it again?

"I don't see what this has to do with anything," he started to protest.

"Oh, well... I mean..." It wasn't going the way she had hoped. Time for a distraction, she thought. She knew where she was going with this, but she had to figure out how to unlock it. How _did_ he start it? "A question! Um. You..." Every thing she thought of was where she wanted to end _up,_ not start with, but she had to think fast.

"I... what?" he prompted unhelpfully.

"You... you... Oh! Everybody always says that he's your rival!" she said in a rush.

"Yes, he is. So what?" Nick pulled at his tie - that red tie, didn't he have any others? - nervously.

"So... I don't believe that." She almost giggled. She sounded just like Nick!

"But you say that more often than anybody else," he pointed out.

"Yes, but... he helped you prove that Dee Vasquez was the one who murdered Jack Hammer!" she said, proud of her memory and the way it made Nick twitch.

"He said it himself, he hates crime and the people who commit it. His 'perfect record' had already been ruined, so he probably didn't care if it involved him losing if it put the real killer in jail..."

"More importantly," she said over his trailing-off argument, "how could you say he's your rival if he's the reason you became a lawyer in the first place?"

Nick made a small noise at that and tugged on his tie even harder. One of the locks shattered, which boosted her confidence. "Okay, so he was my friend. That's why I - miss him."

"Sorry, Nick, you're not getting away that easily." There she paused, unsure of if it was time to push forward with her claim or not. She guessed it was a good thing she didn't want to become a lawyer herself.

"Then what do you think it is?"

That answered that, so she took a breath and said, "It's because you -" The breath suddenly left her along with her courage. It was a hard claim to make, knowing that it could put him off if she were wrong. "You... You are... in love with him," she finished in a small voice.

"..." Nick's face turned beet red as what she said sunk in and another lock broke. Gotcha, she thought.

"Am I wrong?"

"Of - of course you are!" he burst out. "I-I'm not..."

There were still two more locks to break until he would admit it, so she dug around her head to find things to point out to him. "Sis once said that you became a lawyer to help a friend... And it must be a very _special_ friend for you to base your whole career around it." There was that slight pang as she thought of Mia, though time has softened the sting.

"And what makes you think that Edgeworth is that person?" Nick looked even more nervous now, loosening his tie rather than trying to rip it off.

"You just admitted it yourself that you became a lawyer for him!" The third lock broke but the blush only deepened. One more lock, she had to think of one more thing...

"I was worried about him. Besides, it was a spur of the moment thing - I graduated as an art student you know, then saw something about him in the newspaper..." If it had been any other time she would have pestered him until he drew her something, but she had the key to the last lock.

"Finally, whenever anyone mentions him, you get that look." She let her eyes drift away this time. "There was this friend of my aunt's... she lost the man she loved. When his name was brought up, she would look just like that... Completely heartbroken."

This time she heard rather than saw the last lock break and the chains slide away. "Alright, you win."

"I do!?" she exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement. She calmed herself down and scooted closer to Nick and put a hand on his arm as an offer of comfort and apology for causing that defeated tone.

"Yeah. I... do. I did. He's gone now, so it doesn't matter."

Tendrils of regret started to creep into her mind. _Why did I do this again?_ "How can you be sure of that? I mean, how did he die?"

"... That's not the important part. Besides, I'm not even sure of that myself."

"But you have an idea, right? Pearl told me you said he died hanging on to his foolish pride or something like that," she added, remembering the strange comment her little cousin had made.

"... He left a note."

"A note? What did it - oh. Oh oh." Something clicked in her head - he left a note behind and now he's dead. That usually meant... "Suicide!?"

"Quiet down, would you? I don't know. It wasn't certain."

"So he could still be alive. In fact," she said slowly, "I bet I could tell you if he is."

"And how could you do that?" he asked, sounding either tired of the conversation (likely) or her (more likely).

"It's just like how I know my mother's alive," Maya said with a small smile. "I can feel her. I mean, I can't feel her." Nick looked extremely confused, so she elaborated. "When I reach out to her spirit, I can't find it. If I can't channel a spirit, that means they aren't dead. So if I can't find Edgeworth's spirit, then that would mean that he is... not dead."

"Don't."

"Okay, just let me -" she started before what he actually said sunk in. "What? Wait... what?"

"I said I don't want you to. I'm just going to move on. I'm trying to do that now. So I don't want to know. He's gone, either dead or just somewhere else, so it's best I just forget."

"Nick..."

"We have a trial tomorrow, Maya. Go get some rest," he said abruptly, standing and putting on his jacket.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's all right. I'll see you in the morning."

Maya sat where she was left, thinking. Nick was always there to help her, and when he needed her all she did was make him even more depressed. If it were Mia comforting him, she knew, it would be different. But it wasn't Mia, it was Maya, and Maya would fix everything. And so she thought, and reached out to find a spirit.


	2. Chapter 2

I'll officially blame this on Silverpony and the review left by Silverpony, but only because I'm angry at myself that it never, ever occurred to me to do something like this as a follow up. So instead of a one-shot, this now has three parts. Rejoice!

------

It was awkward, to say the least. Seeing Edgeworth again after all that time, and all the while having Nick's confession in the back of her mind made for hard-to-explain blushing. But whenever she had a moment to herself (though it was hard with everyone fussing over her after her kidnapping), she watched the two of them, and realized Nick was unexpectedly good at hiding his feelings.

And if Nick was that good, then Edgeworth must be better. Maya knew she had to be good to do this. She had little time to prepare; who knew when Edgeworth would run out of the country again? But she had been itching to do this since she had reached out to find Edgeworth's spirit in the afterlife and found nothing. Now or never - that was becoming her personal motto.

Stealing the Magatama again was child's play. She thought Nick might have guarded it better after last time, but she also thought he hoped she was done with it. _Not a chance,_ she thought to herself. It's his fault, she reasoned, for leaving it in the office, and giving Maya a key.

The hard part would be cornering Edgeworth. He had little reason to want to see her, after all, but she convinced Gumshoe to get her to his house. All he had to hear was that it was in Mr. Edgeworth's best interest, and he nearly tripped over himself getting her to him. _Nick, I think you have some competition! _she thought on the way there, stifling giggles behind her hand as Gumshoe smiled with her absentmindedly.

And so she found herself at the suprisingly modest home of Miles Edgeworth, feeling apprehensive but determined. If they were both too daft to admit to themselves that they're crazy for each other, then it would be up to Maya to make them see sense. Phase One of three was completed; all she had to do next was get a confession out of Edgeworth, and then get them together. A daunting task indeed, but not impossible.

Upon opening the door, Edgeworth looked at first suprised, then as if he was debating whether or not to slam the door in her face. She took the fact that he had to debate about it as a good sign and pushed her way in.

"Hey, Mr. Edgeworth! I hope you don't mind me dropping by," she said, full of a strange, bubbly glee. Or maybe it was fear. "I just wanted to ask you something."

"Ask me something?" he repeated, recovering admirably quickly. "Is there any reason you felt the need to burst into my home in order to do this?"

"I figured you might want some privacy." She was finding it hard to keep the grin off of her face. It might have been nerves. "No need to embarrass you in front of anybody but me, huh?"

"What exactly is this about?" he asked, sounding tired of her already and shutting the door and leading her into the living room to sit. Thinking about it again, she decided he sounded not tired - or maybe not _only_ tired - but resigned. _Good, that means he's gonna answer me whether or not he actually wants to!_

"We-ell... I wanted to ask... to ask..." Rifling around in her dress, she trailed off as she realized the Magatama is missing. _Oh no, not good, not good._

"If this is about the last case," he began, but Maya found the small green gem with a celebratory noise and cut him off.

"No, no, not at all. Nothing like that. Couldn't be further from the truth."

"So?" Edgewoth glanced at the Magatama. "Does it have something to do with that?"

"Sorta. Don't mind this," she said, waving it around dismissively. "I wanted to ask you about Nick."

"Wright? What about him?" _Oh, he's good. Nick turns into a bundle of nerves as soon as I bring Edgeworth here up, but he's as cool as ever._

"I wanted to know, um." Again, she started to get the feeling this was a bad idea. Writing it off as the prosecutor's natural fridigity, she continued. "I wanted to know what you think... about him."

For a moment he merely regarded her. "If that's all you've come to ask, you've wasted your time. I believe this should be obvious. He is my rival. Nothing more."

"Nothing?" she repeated, seeing the expected Psyche Locks wrap around him. "That's it?" She counted the locks. _Five,_ she thinks incredulously. _Why five? Why? Last time I had enough trouble with four!_

"That is all," he said more firmly.

"So you only think of him as a rival. Interesting." She hoped this made him uncomfortable, like she knew things he didn't, when all she was doing was trying to organize her thoughts and try to decide where to go from there. "That's strange. You have a strange habit of helping your rivals, then."

He looked at her oddly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," she began, "you helped him against Dee Vasquez." Feeling like she was repeating herself - she _was_; she had said the same thing to Nick - she wracked her brain for another instance. "You helped him that time I was gone. You helped him in the last case. For a prosecutor who prides himself on his record and ability, it seems a strange thing to aid the defense."

"I've since learned that there are more important things than perfect records," he said stiffly, completely unaware of the lock floating near his right ear shattering.

"Really? That's good," Maya said, surprised at this new information. "Anyway, that's great and all, but not my point. My point is," she added in a rush, not leaving an opening for him to force her hand like last time, "I don't think that's it."

"And why do you care so much as to come here and tell me this?"

"Well. That's, um." _I didn't expect him to ask that so early..._ "If you let me get through these questions, you'll understand," she ended up saying, proud of her quick thinking. Edgeworth looked for a moment like he would protest, but settled back into his chair. "So if he's not 'just' your rival, what is he?"

"I don't grasp your meaning." She resisted the urge to sigh. Would she have to walk him through the whole thing? She felt a new respect for Nick, doing this multiple times without at least having a vague goal like she did.

"What - is - he," she repeated in an exaggerated manner. "It's more complicated than a rivalry, I know that. But do you?"

"Indeed, it's hard to classify," he agreed. "But simple to explain. A long time ago, we were friends. Time passed. We went separate ways. He became a defense attorney, and I, a prosecutor. We became rivals, but when faced with the choice of my record or justice, I chose to aid him in search of justice. Is that satisfactory to you?"

"No," she said, though if she didn't have the Psyche Locks, it would have been. "That's not all. Don't lie to me."

"Then tell me, what exactly do _you_ think it is, if I am so off base?"

_Again!? Why do they do this to me?_ She wasn't quite prepared to make an accusation yet. "Let's continue for a moment before we go into that. He isn't a rival, he isn't a friend, is that what you're saying?" Edgeworth simply nodded. "So your feelings about him are... complicated."

He narrowed his eyes, understanding the implied meaning. "If you wish to state it that way, yes," he said, not rising to the bait. She could have hit him in frustration.

Maya decided to just come out with it. "I think you care about him a lot."

_No, not 'care.' 'Love,' dang it! _For some reason, associating Edgeworth with being in love did not compute within her mind. She took it as a bad sign.

"Do you?" was all he said.

"I do."

"Maya," he said with a slight sigh. "Let me tell you this way: _there is no salvaging our friendship._ Too much time has passed, we're too different from who we used to be."

"But you could make a new one," Maya pointed out. "Maybe your old friendship _is_ dead. You can forge a new one. Besides, that's not what I said! I didn't say you wanted to be best buddies, I said you _care about him_. As in..." She took a breath and choked out the rest, "As in _being in love with him._"

Even as he said with the most bewildered look on his face, "I don't know where you'd get such an absurd idea," another lock was breaking into pieces.

"From you," she said with joy at being reassured of her assumptions.

"I am not in - in love with Wright," Edgeworth insisted.

"Do you need me to prove it?"

"Usually," he said, still looking disgruntled. Maya guessed it wasn't often that people were able to figure out his innermost emotions.

"Of course you do. Let's see... How do I know?" she asked herself more than Edgeworth. The only reason she had even thought as much was because of Nick; the object of Nick's affection had never given any sign of anything in return. She had to save that for the coup de grace. What could she say to unlock the other two Psyche Locks before the final strike? "Because of the way you... look at him?"

"I wasn't aware I looked at him in any peculiar way." Edgeworth crossed his arms and tapped the fingers of his right hand impatiently. "Try again."

"Okay, fine, I'll be honest. I didn't have any idea until last December," Maya admitted. "The reason I'm here is because of Nick."

Who said the killing blow had to be last? She wanted to stop that metaphor right there, as anything after would be considered as beating up his corpse. "Wright _asked_ you to come here?" the prosecuted asked incredulously.

"No way! I went through this same thing with him. And he cracked pretty quickly," she lied. "Even if you won't admit it to yourself, I got him to. He said he's in love with you."

"I never would have guessed," Edgeworth mumbled amidst the sound of the last three locks breaking one after another. "I never would have guessed," he said again. "He seemed rather angry with me last week."

"Yeah, he told me about that," Maya said, explaining hurriedly. "He was just stressed, you know, trying to figure out a way to prove Engarde innocent and at the same time, um, not get me murdered. And everyone getting on his case in court about how he just wanted to protect his own record... He felt bad for going off on you about the same."

"Hmm."

"Is that it?" Maya asked after a moment.

"What is it you want me to do? I told you what I honestly believe: there is no hope for this... relationship. I will not fool myself with foolish daydreams."

"You sound like von Karma," Maya said with distaste. "Besides, are the both of you really that stupid? Look, he doesn't know that you know. _Go talk to him_. I command you!"

"... I will think about it."

"Fine," she said with exasperation. "That's all I'll get from you, isn't it?" No reply, which she took as an affirmative. "Okay, I'll go now. But do think about it, okay? There is a chance. Trust me."

"... All right," Edgeworth conceeded grudgingly, walking over to the door and opening it. Getting the message loud and clear, Maya exited his home less enthusiastically than she entered. "Do not tell Wright," he warned as she left.

"I won't," she said, biting down a grin. _They're like teenagers,_ she thought.

It wasn't until after the door closed that she realized he had only told her what she wanted to hear; he would not think about it, and he would not go talk to Nick.

This would require a Phase Three.

---

And, um, a random thought which which to amuse you, as is my purpose in life. What happened to the translation of PW2? It looks like they had some sort of comma-eating virus blast through the script.

Hit me again, random thoughts! Matt Engarde's Japanese name was Shingo Outorou, which lead to Japanese fangirls calling him Toro-toro. For some reason, I find this utterly adorable. But the fanart of him and his alter ego, um, getting it on? Not so adorable. Actually, it was kind of disturbing. 


	3. Chapter 3

Warning: Spoilers for PW3. Though I tried my best to make them fairly mild, it's kind of... not. Well. Hmm. Think of it this way: by the time Capcom gets it over here (and they did just recently announce they are 3) you'll have forgotten all about this. :D And, to be fair, we're getting into PW4-land, but it's only what's been released so far... I'm so awful. D:

--

This was the part Maya honestly had no idea about. She didn't know how to start. She didn't know how to fill in the middle. The only thing she knew was how it should end, but even that wasn't certain. Edgeworth being out of town again certainly didn't help, and neither did the fact that she forgot about her plan until she was reminded of the prosecutor's whereabouts (which could be currently labeled as 'out of the country'). By then, it was too late.

She didn't know how it was supposed to go, but this certainly wasn't the way she meant for it to be. It couldn't end here, could it? She had two ends of a thread, but it seemed to be more than she could do to bring them together.

"Life's not a fairy tale," Nick had said shortly when she had approached him. Since then, she hadn't asked him again. _I know I'm the perky sidekick and all, but would it kill you to have a little optimism? Grumpy old man_. There has to be some way to get them together, get them a happy ending.

Time passed as both pretended nothing had happened, though Nick, not knowing Maya had gone to Edgeworth, was not so much pretending as being honestly ignorant of the possibilities. They solved a case, and then another, overseen by a new prosecutor with a disturbing coffee obsession. And then the next case turned everything upside down. The only positive side was that it made Edgeworth come back, flying in to come to their rescue.

Maya would have thought that it was the perfect opportunity to bring them together, if it weren't for _her._

She honestly had no idea what Nick saw in that meek little girl, but whatever it was brought him to the detention center to visit her, and then, less frequently, to the prison where she was held. _This is not good! You love Edgeworth, you two-timer! Besides, didn't you pay attention to the part where she stabbed a dead body?_

And she called him Nicky. Maya could have gagged on the saccharine.

She had never made Nick really mad before, but she figured that she might as well try everything once. Everything was quickly heading into the wrong direction, and she had to reign it back in. Which lead her to say this: "Hey, Nick, by the way... I happened to speak to Edgeworth, oh, a few months ago and he said he loves you."

In hindsight, she should have been facing him when she said this, to take delight in his look of what she assumed would be utter shock. Instead, she studiously avoided looking at him while he sputtered for a moment. "You what!?" he demanded once he regained control of himself. "You didn't - you couldn't have - he wouldn't have -"

"Okay, so maybe he didn't say that he loves you, but that was the general tone of things. Y'know," she said with an exaggerated shrug, "that's how things go."

"That's how things go," Nick repeated hollowly. "How exactly - "

"I'm only telling you this because of Iris," Maya said heatedly. For some reason, thinking about that girl made her want to hit something. "It seems like you're having trouble keeping your mind on one person or the other. Figure it out already, would ya?"

"Well, gee, sorry things are a bit confusing right now," he said, intending the statement to be dry, but instead of acid he injected too much heat and Maya flinched.

_Well, he has a point. If I dated someone and it turned out to be the twin I didn't know existed, and then I thought the person I thought I dated died but then I find the twin five or so years later... Yeah, I'd be confused too._

He took a deliberate breath before he continued. "Look, I don't even know how this came to be your business. Since you've made it this way, I have to clean it up. So I would thank you very much if you would just stop screwing with my personal life."

Maya stared at him for a moment, and he met her gaze evenly. He let her get away with a lot, but she supposed she really had pushed it too far this time. She hated people who could make her feel so awful without even raising their voice. Her aunt had been the same way.

"I'm sorry... I really meant well," she said, sincerely.

"I know," he sighed. "But that doesn't make it any easier."

--

Edgeworth decided (or so it seemed to himself) to just sit and drink tea and think about what to do with the rest of his life. Never a cheerful thought in the past, now it makes his mood sink into what can only be qualified as 'dismal.' Sometimes he would glance at the bottle of wine Gumshoe brought him, sitting unopened on his counter, gathering dust. It looked more tempting each time. But if he looked at it, he would think of Gumshoe, and if he thought of Gumshoe, he would think about Wright. No matter how hard he tried, his mind always strayed back. He scowled into his teacup as the doorbell rang, not in the mood to be disturbed; yet something pulled him out of the chair to open the door.

Upon seeing the familiar cheap blue suit and spikey hair, he could only think with a stab of panic quickly filed away, _What the hell he is doing here?! And then, irrationally, Does he know... ? He couldn't._

"Uh... Hey. How are you?" Wright said, fidgeting and shuffling his feet - he simply radiated discomfort. Edgeworth attempted to school his face into something more inviting than a death glare, reminding himself to be polite.

"What are you doing here?" Inwardly, he winced. At least it came out only mildly threatening.

"Well, I heard you were in town, so I thought I'd drop by?" Wright stood awkwardly, not wanting to invite himself in, but not receiving an invitation, either. "Is, um, something wrong?"

"No," he said, and made more of an effort to soften his face into its usual passive mask. "... Come in."

Looking relieved at the invitation, Wright edged his way through the door, careful not to brush against Edgeworth. Jumping into the middle of an unspoken conversation, he said, "I mean, we haven't spoken about anything not court-related since we were... wow, since we were kids. And there has to be..." He trailed off, looking around the modest (in Edgeworth's opinion, though it's probably opulant to the other) home.

"Has to be?" he prompted, thinking to himself that the defense's case was lacking. Then he thought he really needed to drop the court terms out of his daily life.

"Uh... I forgot," Wright said rather lamely. Edgeworth, deciding he didn't actually care, let the matter drop.

"... Would you like some tea?" He wondered why this is so awkward, but realizes the truth behind what Wright had said. Any thing I'd ask about is related to work... Or what Maya has told him. Neither is very appealing.

"Um, sure." He ran a hand through his hair, only temporarily calming the spikes before they sprang up again.

"Is that - " _natural? What kind of question is that? _He's had them as long as you've known him. _Control yourself, you're not a child who can ask silly questions like 'are those spikes natural.' They couldn't be._

_... Could they?_

"Hmm?"

"Mmpf. I meant, is that... with sugar?" he said, feeling proud at how he painlessly salvaged that potentially embarrassing question.

"Oh. Why not?"

"... Feel free to sit while I boil the water." Perhaps he could think of something to say later. It wasn't his responsibility; Wright was the one who approached him. It's like calling someone and expecting them to start the conversation. What else should I expect from such an uncivilized lawyer... ?

"Say," Wright said, wandering into the kitchen with him, "did Maya - "

"Visit? She did. We had an _interesting_ conversation. As you may imagine," he said jerkily, busying himself with the proper way to make tea. Bring the water almost to boiling, pour it in the cup, put the leaves in the teapot, pour in water, bring it to boiling, steep the leaves, pour the water out of the cup, pour the tea into the cup...

"Yeah, I figured," Wright mumbled.

"Is what she told me true?"

"What part do you mean?"

"Your intelligence, while lacking, cannot be so unfortunate that you are unaware of what I mean. Now tell me: is it true?" Edgeworth demanded again, but still did not raise his eyes from his task.

"You don't have to be so cruel. But yes," Wright conceded, "assuming she told you what I think she told you, then it was true."

"Hmm," was all Edgeworth said in response.

"Don't you have anything else to say? This is not a 'hmm' sort of situation!"

"I will tell you what I told Maya. I told her, regardless of what she told you that made you rush all the way out here - " and there was the telltale blush that said he was on the mark, like always - "and confront me: there is no chance for anything to come of this ridiculous situation."

There. It's said. He almost felt regret, but it was easier, he knew, to stop it before it started.

"That's what I thought you'd say." Wright seemed closer, but it was most likely his imagination. He leaned against the counter, watching Edgeworth watch the water boil. "This has got to be the lamest thing I've ever done."

"Another thing to add to a long list of achievements, indeed. If 'achievements' is the proper word."

"Did you just... make a joke?" Wright said, holding a hand to his chest in mock-shock. "The world is ending. Next thing you'll say is that everything was just an elaborate scam cooked up by you and Maya."

"Hmm."

"Stop 'hmm'ing me. All right, so that wouldn't happen even in some kind of alternate universe where you have a sense of humor. Still, it would almost make this whole thing easier."

"If it was just a farce? I find that hard to believe." The teapot whistled, cutting off what he might have said after that. _Perhaps, in an alternate universe, I'm still talking. Perhaps I took back what I said before and see where things went._

Wright rubbed his face. "Who knows. Well, what now?"

"Now? Now, I think we may return to the status quo." He felt like he should say more, but couldn't think of anything and decided that meant there wasn't anything else to say.

They fell into a silence, but not one that felt awkward, but the kind that feels comfortable - the kind of silence that friends can bask in. Friends. Didn't I just spend all this time telling him, childishly enough, that we aren't friends anymore? As if reading his mind, Wright said, "You sure there's nothing?"

"Nothing," Edgeworth confirms.

"I almost wish she hadn't started this," the brunette said suddenly. "Maya," he added unnecessarily. "This never would have had to happen if she hadn't stole the Magatama..."

"Did she use the... 'Cycle Locks' on you, as well?"

"Psyche Locks, but yeah," Wright said around a chuckle. "I almost feel bad for all the people I pulled that on."

"Yes, let us pity the criminals and the secrets they hide," Edgeworth said, barely refraining from rolling his eyes.

"That's not what I meant!"

I don't like how easy this conversation is. This has to end, for both of our sakes. "Wright," he said, suddenly serious.

"Yes?"

"I think... I think you should leave." The tea, nestled into neat cups next to them, laid untouched. He didn't even really remember pouring them.

"I think so, too. I've been thinking about a vacation," Wright said with a laugh, though it sounded forced. "You need one too, I bet."

"I was serious."

"So was I."

They stared at each other for a moment, almost a silent contest of wills. Finally, Wright broke, as expected. "Right. I'll go. It's for the best."

"It's for the best," Edgeworth repeated, but neither moved. He found himself thinking, against his will, Would it be so horrible to try?

"Right. I'll go," Wright said quietly. "See you around, I guess."

Will I regret letting him go more than... ? He couldn't even bring himself to complete the thought. Instead, he reached out to catch the end of a blue sleeve. "... Wait," he said unnecessarily, but faltered. Luckily, Wright knew what to do. He always seemed to, in the end - that damnable man, he thought without malice. It had been a long time since he had last kissed anyone and he felt awkward, unsure of what to do and when. Their noses brushed at first, then their lips, hesitantly.

He fancied that he could hear it, their swan song, in that kiss.

--

It was the final irony, Edgeworth thought, or maybe just the final turnabout. It hadn't been him that ended the whole thing; that honor went to Wright. Wright, the persistent one, the one who kept saying "_It could work_." And now all he has of him is this article.

_I had no idea you could play poker, Wright. I would have thought that maintaining a poker face would be the last thing you would ever be able accomplish... _Reading the newspaper, he couldn't help but smile to himself. It really was a pity that he was no longer a prosecutor. If only he could cross-examine Wright, he'd have another guilty verdict in seconds.

And a guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

_I'd just make a fool out of myself_. Instead, he would watch Wright make a fool out of himself - where did he get that absurd hat, anyway? He would watch, wonder, and maybe, just maybe, muster up the courage to seek him out. And when he found him...

_... I wonder where one obtains a Magatama._

--

Thanks to everyone who read, and more love to those who reviewed! Your comments make me feel all fuzzy. 3

P.S. Apologies for not getting this up sooner - I had it almost done, but then I got a virus and it wiped out a bunch of stuff so I had to rewrite it. :O But you should be glad, because originally the ending was rather depressing. I mean, more than this. Hey, I had to make the title work again, dang it.

P.P.S. "Swan song" is a synonym for "final goodbye." Just so you know... y'know.


	4. Chapter 4

The Domesticated Lawyer

Okay! So, it's been more than a year. I'm throwing this at the end of SS because it interlocks with it. Originally it was going to be different, but it's been too long, and I wanted an actual ending to this story. So here we are, and now I'm officially back on FFnet. Hooray.

Writing style may seem different. It has been awhile. I tried to keep it fairly consistent. I even kept the same tense! Go me.

This sort of ret-cons the very last bit of the last chapter. I don't know if any of you read the original, but I did tweak the old ending a bit. If you don't remember, don't worry. :D

--

Phoenix had never been accused of being manly. He'd never had a problem with this. At the very least, he'd never been called effeminate, which sums up quite nicely the decorating style of Miles Edgeworth.

The place was _frilly_. And _pink._

_That's unfair. I'll give him maroon. But it's still frilly_. In the embarrassing circumstances that led him to this point, he was thankful that at least he never had to question whether or not Miles was gay. _You don't look at him and think so, but, I mean, look at this! _He pet a velvet curtain with lace trimming. _No straight man would ever put this in his home!_

But that naturally lead to him thinking of gay men. Like himself. But he wasn't, not really - does one person define sexuality for another? He'd had girlfriends before, and he didn't like Edgeworth for his penis. _What the heck am I thinking?_ He could feel his face turning red. _This is ridiculous. Where did he go, anyway? I came to talk to him..._

"You're right. I think the color of your face would match the chairs better than the color I originally chose. Thank you for the help." The dry comment made him jump guiltily, feeling like a teenager caught fantasizing about sex. Which was really unfair, because that wasn't what he had been thinking about at all. Well, sort of. "I never thought you'd have good taste in interior decorating."

"Careful, that was almost a joke," Phoenix said irritably, feeling irrationally angry that something decided he deserved to be caught during such an embarrassing train of thought. "I get it, my face is red!"

"Do you need medical attention, or is this just something I'll have to get used to?"

"Why did you choose now to grow a sense of humor?"

"It will pass," Miles assured him.

And then there was silence. Phoenix fidgeted with the curtain some more. Miles stared at him blankly. Finally, Phoenix clears his throat. "It's been awhile."

"... Three months, to be exact."

"I made a mistake," Phoenix said in a rush. As if he didn't say it now, he never would. Which was likely, seeing how last time went, and he never ended up saying anything at all. "I -"

"Save it," Miles interrupted. "You shouldn't have left, you want to start over, am I right?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I told you last time that you needed to leave. I had _thought_ you understood that I meant you shouldn't come back as well, but you obviously didn't. So here it is: this won't work. You'll move on. But first you have to go."

"You haven't even given it a chance!"

"I don't have to. You can't even say what _it_ is, you're so ashamed," Miles said with disdain. "If you really wanted this, wanted a relationship, you'd come out and say it. Something is holding you back. Some_one_, perhaps."

"Now don't start with that. I don't need to say anything, anyway! I've _done_ plenty. I gave up everything for you," Phoenix said, and immediately regretted it. He figureed he ought to backtrack now, but it was too late, so he started to override Miles' arguement. "I gave up my old dream of being an artist - for you. I went back to school and changed my job, for you. Because you needed me. And I wanted to see you, and you wouldn't return my calls, so I just made it so you would _have _to see me. If that isn't -"

"I never asked you do do any of that!" Miles looked frazzled. Or embarrased. Or angry. It could be hard to tell with him. Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

"You didn't have to ask - that's my point!" Phoenix softened his tone. "I did it for you. Not because you asked. Because I had to see you again."

"This is utterly ridiculous," Miles said, turning away. Definitely angry, Phoenix decided. "All I see there is an extremely twisted - and perhaps stalker-like - friendship."

"I wanted you," Phoenix blurted out.

"... Say what?"

Frankly, Phoenix was surprised at himself, too. _Well, I'll just do what I do best - run with it._ Although his face felt red again, which took a certain respectablility from his words, but there wasn't anything he could do about that. "I wanted - I _want you_. I don't know how clearly I can say it. I've been thinking of you since I left two months ago, and I kept telling myself I did the wrong thing. I should have fought you on it. I know that if you didn't feel anything for me, you wouldn't have let me stay that long. You wouldn't be listening to me now. That's what brought me here - I care about you. Not in some twisted, creepy version of friendship, like you said, but... I - I love you."

And there it was. Phoenix didn't feel like he could say any more - there wasn't anything more to say. Everything was up to Miles now. He felt a clenching feeling in his stomach. _This isn't going to end well. I just know it._

"Wright, I told you last time that this wouldn't work out. I meant it."

"Yeah, but you didn't tell me why," Phoenix countered, feeling disappointed in the response he got in return for his soul-bearing confession. _Then again, I knew what I was getting into with him... Didn't I?_

"Why - why this wouldn't work? Are you serious? You couldn't figure that out?" Miles rubbed his temple. "I hardly know you. We rarely ever meet outside of work-related scenarios. We -"

"That's easily fixable," Phoenix pointed out.

"Don't interrupt."

"I already know what your next problem will be: we're both _men_, right? And you couldn't allow the public to know that Miles Edgeworth took a male lover, especially now that you're planning on coming back someday. Right?"

"That's not - all right, that is exactly what I was going to say," Miles admitted grudgingly. "It's not as if the public finding this out would only be bad for me. You actually have a career here, not a hypothetical one."

"The difference between you and me, though, is that it's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Dare I say - _again_ - that this is absurd? What do I have to do to make you drop this?"

"Give me a chance. Even if it - even if _our relationship_ fails, that will just be your chance to say, 'I told you so.' Sure, it won't feel good if it doesn't work out, but you'll never know until you try."

At this Miles fell silent again, but this time it was pensive. This time, it was hopeful. "I can't just answer you right now. I need some time to get used to this."

"That's fine. You have my number. Call me whenever." Phoenix added softly, "And Miles?"

The man in question twitched at hearing his first name for a change. "Yes?"

"I meant what I said. Even if it took me awhile to come out and say it - " _Bad choice of words there, Wright _- "I love you."

He didn't get a reply, but he didn't expect one, either. After a moment, Phoenix leaves again. This time, it wouldn't be forever.

--

He should have known things would go wrong, especially because they had been going so well.

It wasn't even a week since Wright had left his house with 'I love you' instead of 'goodbye' like any normal, civilized person would say. He had thought about the conversation far too often, replaying it over and over, until he felt like he was making up parts because he couldn't quite remember the exact words. For some reason, that was what inspired him to give Wright a call. _Dinner is a good place to start. Traditional._

Nothing about this whole ordeal had been traditional. Might as well start sometime.

Then he thought that something would go wrong, so he gave it another week, just to make sure that neither of them died, or spontaneously moved away, or anything else that would make a relationship more difficult than it already was. Just when he felt secure in calling Wright, he gave it a few more days. Just to make sure.

He was glad he waited, after all. The newspaper for the morning before he planned to call ruined it. The headlines read **PHOENIX WRIGHT MAKES WRONG CHOICE.** Forged evidence. The suspect on the run. Wright facing debarment.

Somewhere in his mind, he knew it couldn't be true. It was impossible to think that someone like him would ever knowingly use a piece of false evidence - he'd think that anyone would be able to see it. An attorney he'd never heard of was the only one who had stepped forward in his defense. Miles knows that if he tried to weigh in, it would mean nothing - he had too many marks against his own record to be defending anyone else of the same crime.

He felt completely useless. So he didn't call.

This time he thought to himself, _I'll call once the media dies down. No, he probably needs someone there for him now. No, he's probably overwhelmed with people talking about this, no, no, no..._

So he waited for a while to call. He waited and waited, and this time he regretted waiting, because bad things happen to those who wait. _At this point, things really couldn't get worse_, he decided, and dials the number.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. And connected him to voicemail.

He tried again, with the same results. He couldn't find the words for a message. It didn't seem appropriate. Instead, he went straight to Wright's office, only to find all the relevant signs taken down. The lights were off - the place looked abandoned. Maybe he had let too much time pass.

He would try the phone a few more times, the office several more, but he couldn't find any sign of Phoenix anywhere he went. And while he waited, he accumulated several offers to work in Germany, Belgium, France - the longer he waited, the less patient these offers were.

Bad things came to those who waited, so he took the offer from the France. Before he left, he wrote a letter and sent it to the office. It was up to Phoenix, now.

--

By this time, Miles had given up keeping track of the time that passed. He did his job admirably, _cleanly_, made for himself a new reputation of being strict and hard to conquer but honest. The last part, after everything that had happened, was most important to him.

He may have given up keeping track of time, but he still knew that it had been far too long since he heard the voice was hearing on the other end of the phone. The voice that made his heart pound oddly in his chest, a feeling he thought must be like what they called 'skipping a beat' but he'd never really felt before so he didn't know.

"Miles. It's been awhile."

"... Wright. You think that - after all that happened - I tried to get a hold of you, and you think that you can just -"

"Calm down. I know. I was upset. I didn't want to face you, because I knew that you'd have found out all about what happened through the news. And then you left, and I didn't want to bother you again. I wanted to let you move on."

"And what changed your mind?" _And what changed you_, he wanted to ask. The Phoenix on the other end sounded so different. The voice was the same, but the tone felt old. Calmer. Tired. Not Phoenix at all.

"I wanted to tell you about Trucy."

"Oh," was all Miles could think to say.

"She has your cheekbones," Phoenix said, deadpan.

"That's - wait, _what?_"

"Your cheekbones. She has my hair color, your cheekbones. She has the most beautiful eyes, though. I don't know where she got them."

"What are you talking about? Do I even want to know?"

"My daughter," Phoenix finishes perfectly. "Trucy. She's my daughter."

"And she has my cheekbones," Miles finishes faintly.

"Good, you were paying attention." He can hear the smile in Phoenix' voice. It lifted some of the age. "I thought you might want to see her. She kind of thinks you're her mama."

"Wright, there is no way I can dignify that with a response."

"Well, I didn't know what to say, y'know? She saw a picture of you and started to ask questions. So I said, 'he's very special to me,' and she just made up the rest." He got the feeling that Phoenix was laughing at him now, laying back and twirling a cord. Which was ridiculous, because phones didn't have cords any more.

"Really. Why are you calling me?"

Phoenix sighed. "I don't know. I miss you."

"This needs to stop," Miles said plainly. "I can't take any more of this. I've moved on. It's time you did, too. I feel like we had this conversaion before - and we have, and it was _three years ago_. Let it go."

"I know. I wasn't trying to start anything again. I just missed you. I think I just wanted to finish this. You left me hanging."

"I was going to call."

"I know. But you didn't. So I called you. And here we are."

"Here we are," Miles echoed. "For the record, Wright, I loved you."

There was silence for a moment - the past tense did not go by unnoticed. "I know that, too. I'm glad to hear it, though. That's all I needed."

"I guess this would be goodbye, again."

"If we continue with this pattern, it'll be another, what, three decades until we talk to each other again?"

"Hopefully not," Miles let slip, but left it. He must have meant it. He did say it, after all.

"Yeah," Phoenix said wistfully. "I hope not."

"Well."

"Goodbye, Miles."

"Goodbye, Phoenix. And... say hi to Trucy for me."

"Will do," Phoenix said warmly before ending the call.

For some reason, Miles felt that he was extremely different from normal people. Perhaps it was the fact that a "bike lock" was what got him to admit his feelings in the first place. Or that his would-be boyfriend adopted a little girl and called three years after the fact to tell him that - and only that.

Either way, he couldn't bring himself to mind. Things don't always work themselves out well, or in the right ways, but they always work.

--

It's four years later when he saw Wright in the newspaper again. It brought up old thoughts of days gone by and Magatamas.

_Perhaps I'll give him a call_.

_But I should probably give it another year or so, just to make sure_, he thought with a smirk.

--

Yep, came around full circle. And yes, that is the actual ending now. Exactly the same as last time, but more drawn out! No, actually, the point of this chapter was to stress that, well, Edgeworth was right. Not working. I'll come clean and say that I've always kind of felt this way about P/E, like it'd never actually work out even if they _are_ hot for each other. Or however you chose to describe it. So yeah.

And I'm glad it's done. Been on my mind for a while. Hope you enjoyed, and my next work will probably be some A/K, because I love me some A/K.


End file.
